Some Nights
by Zatannax
Summary: Robin was somehow the perfect boyfriend, even if she didn't know his real name.


**this is my first story and I hope you like it injoy-Nana**

 **Robin was somehow the perfect boyfriend, even if she didn't know his real name.**

it was on nights like this that she realized how much she really loved him. When she sent him a single text at three in the morning, saying nothing more than "sweet dreams" and he showed up at the cave in his pajamas with cocoa and snacks and a movie. How he had known from such a simple thing as a good night text that she'd been crying on the floor in the corner of her room she would never know. But somehow he always did.

He'd pop in the movie and they would watch the first part in silence. She would look over at him several times to see how he was feeling. And she would be keenly aware of the moment he took her hand, lacing their fingers together and giving it a light squeeze. When she looked over at him then he would always be watching the movie, eating something. He hadn't even looked at her. How did he always know the perfect moment?It was always after the first half hour that she would turn to him and just start talking. About her dad, about her life, her school, whatever was bothering her. And Robin would turn to her, facing her square on, and listen to everything. He would hold her hands, nod at all the right times, and, when she started to cry, he knew exactly how to hold her.

His hands would wrap around her shoulders and he would bury his face in her shoulder, matching his breath to hers. And when she finished, and he'd give her a little speech, showing her she wasn't alone. She would always look back to the movie and find it paused only seconds after she'd started talking, but she never once saw him touch the remote. How could one person be so perfect?Tonight it was something so repetitive she always expected him to roll his eyes and tell her she was overreacting, to get over it already, but he never did.

Tonight she'd dreamt of her dad again. It was a reoccurring dream. She'd be having a good time, they would get into a fight, she would scream at him that she wished he would just leave her alone, and he would say okay, and then she would be standing over her father's dead body, blood everywhere, all over her clothes and hands and everywhere and standing over him would be Doctor Fate.

She would call out to him, and he would only shake his head and turn away. And then she would wake up in a sweat. Every time she texted him it was just to get a reply, to know that he was still there, that he still cared about her. No matter how many times he showed up, she always just expected a "good night", or a "you too". But he was perfect. He held her at a short distance, his hands on his arms, as he looked her in the eye. She could never see his eyes, always hidden behind those glasses or his mask, but she always knew when he was looking at her.

Normally she would just put on a show, but on nights like this it either scared her or comforted her. Tonight her body opted for terrified."Your father's still in there "He ." He touched her face, leading it back to his. "I know it's hard to believe, but I know. Batman told me that on the day they were deciding which members to initiate into the team, he saw him. It was so clear, everyone on the team noticed.

"He almost pulled his hand away, but let it rest there, the backs of his fingers brushing her cheek so lightly, making her skin burn. "I see it to, the moment when I lost my parents. They don't come as often now as they did, but for a while they came every night. Except my mind twisted them, so I was suppose to catch them, but they slipped through my fingers or I missed them, because I was too weak, too slow, too not good enough. But they will fade. I promise. Though I know you don't believe me now. I didn't believe Batman when he told me. "He pulled his hand away, knowing he'd given her too much information.

She was already so desperate sometimes to find out who he was, she's attempted to snatch his glasses from him while he slept. The result was a knife held at her throat by a slightly dazed Robin. This was a vital clue, and he'd given it to her so freely. But she pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight, refusing to let him pull away until he had no choice to hug her back. She loved him so dearly, and, though neither said it to the other, it was in moments like this, when he was so vulnerable but still did what he could to protect her, to keep her sane and happy and safe, that she knew he loved her too. They didn't need to say it.

 **sorry if** **its too short and spaced out wrong just let me know and I'll fix it bit I hope u liked it I'll continue if y'all like**


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